You Once Knew Him As
by ForbiddonTrance
Summary: Arthas's Liches find some kind of stone, finding himself in the middle of a life that he may have had...


Author's Note: I haven't written anything in awhile, and have been playing Warcraft now for a little bit. Sorry if Arthas is starting OOC, but i'm hopeing that it will come along later in the story.

If it is in _Italics, _It is a thought.

Anything Underline is a place.

* * *

Icecrown Citadel

The Lich King or Arthas Menethil strolled around the area that he called home. Icecrown Citadel had become a lot more active since he had woken, and now the time came that he needed to keep himself moving, knowing that more and more forces were trying to get closer to this so called home.

_My living hell, _he thought, _meant to stay here and watch the dead walk and kill the others that threaten to invade._ Arthas barely remembered his life that he had once lived, all that he knew now seemed dead just as the geist that came running down the hall. It occurred to him that he couldn't even remember his father's name, let alone anything that had gotten him here in the first place. Arthas watched a pair of lich seeming to argue about things that were in front of him.

"Why do you argue over petty things from the living," he said to them, as a lich turned his head to the direction of his master.

"Master, this is no ordinary stone. This stone has exceptional powers that even our most powerful death knights could not hold."

"What about your master?"

"Sorry sire, but, this stone could get rid of you if used improperly; we should get rid of it." The other lich floated near the large Death Knight, and disputed, "Master, we should use this against our enemies, it could become very useful."

Arthas grabbed the stone. It seemed like nothing more than a rock, and, what was worse, after all his years as a warrior, he knew the arcane magic that should be present if it was something of a trinket, "You fools, it is merely a stone, it would do nothing to a being, except maybe knock it unconscious." With that, he threw the stone at a nearby ghoul, dropping him to the ground. The two liches turned to each other, still feeling odd about the stone, left the king to his fun.

Arthas smirked as he looked at the ghoul, and walked to grab the stone. Arthas gave it a squeeze, and was about to toss it again when something came over him. _What is this, there was no arcane power in this before, nor any kind of powers…_

The stone went from the smooth gray to a blood red, seeming not to do anything different but the color change. Arthas watched it as it changed, and grasped it tight. _I will have to look into this stone; this could be of some value to me after all. _Arthas placed the stone in a pouch, and walked to his throne room. He took out the stone one more time, flipping it over and over in his large hands. _It seems like it doesn't do anything…_

"Arthas…" Arthas stood, Frostmourne gripped in his hand, ready to battle, "Who dares disturbs the Lich King…," before anything else could be said, the voice spoke to him again, "Arthas, the stone in your hand can show you things that you have felt at one time before. Take it into your hand, and close your eyes…" the eerie voice stopped, and Arthas couldn't tell what to do. He was not frightened, he couldn't be, but more entranced at the voice that had spoken to him. The Lich King, who has never put down his Frostmourne now reached for the stone and placed the sword on his throne. Not knowing why his intentions were following the odd voice, he closed his eyes slowly…

Capitol City of Lordaeron

Prince Arthas woke with a bright sun shining down on his face. Arthas awoke with a start, reaching out for the Frostmourne that he just placed down. Once his eyes focused, Arthas suddenly realized that he was not in the cold of his citadel, but the masonry seemed familiar, the walls seemed lined with nothing but books of the alliance, and books of Paladin and spells, histories, and wars.

Arthas was in horror, and looked down at himself, he was dressed in his old robes that he wore to bed, and looked up as he heard footsteps coming to his door,

"Arthas! Milord, it is late in the morning, Uther is looking for you down at the training areas!" it seemed that a servant yelled.

Arthas didn't know whether or not to let go of the bed, he scrunched the silk fabric in his hands, almost ripping the comforters, "ARTHAS! It's time to wake up; Uther the Lightbringer will have your head!"

Arthas felt himself look around him one more time.

This wasn't the icy hold of his palace.

This is the castle that he lived in his younger years, where he killed his father in cold blood, where the crowds cheered for the man that was walking in to kill there king…

This was Lordaeron, a different place that was only in his dreams…

Arthas screamed.


End file.
